Crossing a Fine Line
by Ravenclaw Writer
Summary: Nearly fifteen years after the curtain falls, history threatens to repeat itself with Aiden, the son of Heather and Will.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing, and am simply an adoring Green Day fan who fell in love with this musical instantly.

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><p>Heather paced back and forth in her kitchen. The portable phone was in her hands, but she wasn't sure exactly what she wanted to do with it just yet. She walked into her living room, feeling too anxious to stay in one place for too long. Her husband, Charlie, was sitting on the couch.<p>

"Do you really think I should call him?"

Charlie peered over his glasses at his barely thirty, but still stressed wife. She hadn't slept much last night, and her dark hair was visibly knotted. He knew that talking to this man would set her on complete edge for the phone call, but normally she would be alright afterwards. Of course, if she got what she wanted from the phone call, there would only be more anxiety.

"Do you really think you could handle this by yourself?"

Heather looked at her husband for a moment, glad she had not only a sturdy rock, but a source of wisdom. She marched over and kissed the top of his head, then forced herself back into the kitchen. Dialing the number was a bit tricky, but now that she realized that it needed to be done, she didn't hang up once he spoke.

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><p>Will had just sat down to grade papers on his couch when the phone rang. "Dammit," he muttered. He found the phone hiding between some cushions just in time to pick it up.<p>

"Hello?"

"Hi, Will."

Will bolted up from lounging on the couch. He ran a hand through his hair, which instantly made him look less like an adult and more like the seventeen year old boy she had changed. "Oh. Hey, Heather."

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Clearly." He wished that for once in his life she wouldn't turn him into a sour young man again.

"It's about... Aiden."

Opening the refrigerator, Will pulled out a beer. No way he was getting into one of these conversations without one. "What about him?"

"I'm worried about him." Will looked at the drink in his hand. Maybe he wanted to be sure to pay attention. Heather was able to handle most things involving their son. Still, he decided to press the phone between his shoulder and cheek, freeing his other hand to look for a bottle opener.

"Well, what's wrong?"

"He's just..." the eloquent Heather struggled for words. "I'm worried about him, because he's starting to remind me of Johnny. Hardly wanting to talk, not caring about school, bringing home friends, one more suspicious in the eyes of a cop than the next. And I'm having trouble defining between giving him the freedom he needs to stay a good kid with a side of the angst everyone has, and letting him run free and turn into a nightmare."

"Right. So, why are you calling me?"

"Well.. I figured that of our old gang, you'd be the best one to talk to him. Johnny's still a mess, going into a rant about Jesus of Suburbia every so often. Tunny doesn't seem to have an ounce of rebellion left in him that Aiden could relate to. Besides, you're his father." She listened to the silence pounding in her ears. "You don't understand, Will! He is Jesus of Suburbia, born of rage and love!"

"Love?"

Will immediately regretted the word slipping out of his mouth. He heard the hitch in her voice as Heather reminded him. "That was then and this is now. But he has this potential to know Johnny's pain. You can't let him realize that, and you can show him the proofs against going in that direction."

"So you send the once a drunken, high, deadbeat to teach the kid a lesson. Good job, Heather. No need to remind him that you're flawed." He cringed at the sting in his own voice.

"Will..."

"I'm sorry. Better he stayed with you than me. I'll just... I'll come over Wednesday, alright?"

Heather sighed. "See you then, Will."

The phone clicked, and Will rested his head on the wall. Always too much. Always too soon. But never enough.

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><p>Heather slumped back onto the couch beside Charlie. "He's coming over Wednesday."<p>

Charlie put his arms around his wife. "He give you a hard time?"

"Not too bad. I wasn't very fair for my part, either."

"There's no perfect thing to say to him, and there's no perfect thing for him to say to you. I wish you'd both realize that." He muted the television. "You did the best you could, you know. You always do when it comes to Aiden."

She sighed. "Do you know the line between allowing freedom of expression and allowing him to morph into a monster?"

"I think very few people do. It's a tricky place, adolescence." He heard her delicate sniff, and knew she had a tear or two on her face. "But I also think that you called the best person you could. He's crossed the line and jumped back over."

They both sat on the couch, watching the actors' mouths move and seeing scenes play out with no sound. Aiden walked into the kitchen after he got home from school, dark as a storm cloud. Soon after, music was playing from behind the closed door to his room. Heather stood by the door a moment, remembering the little boy that she gave all her loving to.

_Kids need more than one parent's loving, I __guess_, she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

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><p>Will stood at the door. Wednesday had arrived, same as it always did. A political science class first period. World history second. On and on, Will and his schedule had done their best to keep a few Idiots out of the world. But now his schedule and lesson plans had abandoned him, leaving him on the cold doorstep of Heather's home. He rapped on the dark wood.<p>

She came to the door and he caught that look in her eye. The same look had been there when he first asked her out, the same look had been there when they first went to bed. It quite clearly said "I'm not sure how good of an idea this is, but God dammit I'm going to try it." He loved that look.

"Hey." She said, watching him. He was biting his lip, a little bit slouched. She would never quite get used to seeing him as a teacher figure; he was forever engraved in her brain as a tall symbol of rebellion. The boy who made her parents squirm. The boy with the darkest hair that would never abide to any rules. The boy she had loved more than anything, until she had become a force and set of rules he had to deal with. She turned around. "Come on in."

Will followed Heather into the kitchen. She nervously straightened the pile of magazines on the coffee table, letting her brown hair fall as a curtain. He remembered when she'd chopped it short, and instantly regretted getting rid of "a curtain to separate her from obnoxious bitches."

"Did you ever cut it again?" Heather jumped. "Your hair. You hated it short."

A smile escaped her. "Nah. It's been this length or longer since Johnny got back from the city." The smile left as they knew what time period she was avoiding. It'd been that length since she left and he didn't chase her. She cleared her throat. "You need anything?"

"Could I use your bathroom?"

"Just down the hall." Will nodded and went, more looking for a way to hide for a few minutes than anything. As soon as he closed the door, he heard another door in the house open. Footsteps went past. A third door slammed, and muted music began. Like father, like son.

Will washed his hands and walked out the bathroom door. Heather was standing in the kitchen, which he could see down the hall. He caught her eye and pointed towards Aiden's door. She nodded, and started rubbing her temples.

Will rubbed his hands the same way he did before a particularly long lecture and knocked on his son's door. It opened. "Hey, Aiden."

"Will."

"Mind if I come in?"

"Why are you here? Does Mom know?"

"Yeah, she knows alright. She wants me to talk to you. So really, it doesn't matter if you mind if I come in or not. Easy or hard road, Aiden?"

His son rolled his eyes and opened the door wider. Will walked in and shut the door behind him.

Classic Nirvana played while his son sat on the twin sized bed with his back leaning against the wall. The room wasn't dark or dismal like he'd suspected; it seemed to mirror the way Heather saw Aiden. The walls were the same stormy grey they had been last time Will had visited, and the windows let plenty of light in. Sure, a few posters adorned the wall that made him see Heather's point. But it was better than Will's room growing up.

Will focused on Aiden. "Mom says she's worried about you. Tell me why."

"Why should I? You don't know me, when's the last time you visited? More accurately, when's the last time you visited and weren't this awkward man who doesn't know what to say?" Aiden rolled his eyes and Will saw what Heather did. Aiden was Will, from the pitch black hair to the bright blue eyes. Pants just a smidge too short showed a recent growth spurt, and the scowl on his face showed the fire that flickered in and out of everything. School. Music. Girls. Friends. This was the world of Aiden and his adolescent father. To a certain degree, it was Heather's world too, but she didn't know what to do with it except leave it. She couldn't make Aiden leave, the same way she couldn't make Will leave. And now, Will understood.

"Look. I know you don't know me, and I don't know you. But I know your mother, and she knows you. She knows you and I well enough to know that this 'teen angst' you've got going on isn't going to help you for long. Sure, you vent here and there and you're fine. She's worried about what you could become though. Do you know why?"

"Because besides early sex, she never did anything wrong? Because her one mistake turned into me, and she's an uptight little bitch about everything now?"

"Because she knows that when a kid cusses about his own mother, something's damn wrong! Your mother is nothing like that, do you even know who she was before she had you? Do you know about Johnny and Tunny and the city? No! If you did, you'd understand!" Will felt uncomfortable yelling at his son, this almost stranger. But if Aiden was Will, sometimes yelling was the only thing that worked.

"Then what the hell happened. Just tell me. She never does, and Dad doesn't either. I ask Mom, she tenses up. I ask Dad, and he goes into how he doesn't know it all; how it's not his place to tell me."

Will looked at Aiden. He rubbed his jaw, trying to ease the tenseness that came with hearing Charlie referred to as his kids dad. "Alright. I'll tell you why your mom is worried about you when you start wearing all black and stop being her little boy. But you're gonna listen to me, because for once I do get to act as your dad right now. And then I'm gonna listen to your opinions and we're gonna have a father-son bond of some sort if it kills us. Deal?"

Aiden, the picture of teen angst, glared at his father. He reached over and paused his music. He lay down on his bed, and spoke with a good amount of sarcasm. "Alright Daddy. Tell me your twisted bedtime story."


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing.

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><p>"You know Uncle Johnny?"<p>

Aiden snorted. "Barely. He comes in the house about as often as you do."

"Okay, must you point out how much you apparently loathe my presence at every opportunity?" Aiden rolled his eyes, but stayed silent. "Your Uncle Johnny was one of my best friends growing up. We'd been friends since we were toddlers, and I'd gone to every birthday party of his since we were three. Do you know what his theme was for that birthday party? The Rescuers Down Under."

"The Disney movie?"

"Yep. So here was this genuinely good kid, playing pretend, reading things like _James and the Giant Peach_, doing fine in school. Then his dad died. Mrs. Stevenson remarried this guy named Brad, who by the way, was actually kind of a dick. Not as much as Johnny made him out to be, but yeah, he was in fact a jerk. So thank your lucky stars you ended up with a Charlie, and not a Brad." Aiden looked at Will without any sign of hatred. Now he was just listening.

"Brad being there changed Johnny. Not all at once, but the way you're changing. At first he just turned a little darker, just making his mom worry a little bit. Just like Heather. Then Johnny got all involved in drugs-"

"And where were you during all of this?"

"Right alongside him. But I didn't even have a damned reason to ruin my life. I just did it because it was 'fun'. Because Johnny was doing it. Uncle Tunny too, to a lesser extent."

"Uncle Tunny who's missing a leg?"

"Uncle Tunny who's missing a leg. That's part of the story, if you'll listen."

"What do you think I'm doing?"

Will couldn't help but smile a little. This is definitely his genes. "So we all got into drugs and alcohol and all that jazz. Started failing and not caring. Soon enough we were seventeen. Johnny was restless with this town, your mom and I had been together nearly a year, and Tunny was along for the ride really. Johnny wanted to leave, so we planned to. Do you know what happens next?"

"You all go into the city and have the time of your lives?"

"Nope. Johnny and Tunny go into the city. I stay home with your mom."

"Why?"

"She found out she was pregnant."

Aiden looked surprised, but tried to appear indifferent. "With me?" Will nodded. "You stayed home from this great adventure, just to stay with my mom?"

"Your grandparents always claimed there was nothing but lust between your mother and me. Don't listen to a word of that. We had something no one else in the town had. It was love, friendship, and rebellion all wrapped up in two people. You don't get that often. Of course I stayed with her."

"Do you still love her?" Will jumped out of his memory. "Do you still love my mom?"

"I don't think-"

"If you want my trust," Aiden cut in, "you have to tell me the truth. Do you still care for my mom?"

Will stared at Aiden. "Aiden, when you really love a girl the way I loved your mom, you'll know. You'll know that I'm here because your mom is the most complicated, frustrating subject in my life, but I'd do anything for her. That's a special kind of love. It's not defined as romantic or friendly. It's that I love her enough to let her live her own life, and I can be happy for her. That's different than the love she has for Charlie, and the love she has for you. I'm not even sure if it's love. That's why I expect you to not bring it up to her, ever. If it is love, it's very precarious. Got it?"

Aiden nodded. "Yeah, I got it." He cleared his throat. "So Johnny and Tunny went to the city?"

"Yeah. Tunny didn't stay long. The city has so much more propaganda than you can imagine, and Tunny got sucked into it all. He signed up and moved out. That's how he lost his leg. Meanwhile, Johnny was all over the place. I wasn't there, but from what I understand, his personality split."

"What?"

"He turned into two people. The self-confident, narcissistic druggie on the street. The young man that used to watch _Rescuers Down Under_. They were two people, but they were both Johnny. Guess which one found a girl?"

"Johnny, of course."

Will chuckled. "Clever. It's kind of a trick question anyway. The druggie, the one Johnny referred to as St. Jimmy, got the girl. But Johnny was the one who kept her around. It was Johnny and his girl, and from what I understand, she was a perfect sinner. She had two sides too, but she kept them in check. She was bright enough to know that Johnny had to lose Jimmy, and tried to help. She wanted Johnny to get rid of the drugs. It almost worked."

"What ruined it?"

"St. Jimmy. He left the girl, and pulled Johnny away too. That's what it took for Johnny to kill St. Jimmy, losing that love and realizing whose fault it was. But there was no getting the girl back."

"What was her name?"

"We don't even know," Will sighed. "Johnny did his best to forget her, and maybe it's for the best. He's a wreck living with the little memory he has of her. If he remembered more... I don't know what he'd be like."

Aiden looked at Will thoughtfully. "So what's the moral of the story?"

"Don't be Johnny. You have no reason to slide into this. So, more accurately, don't be me. Talk to your mom and Charlie. Keep up with school. Choose good friends. Don't be a mess." Aiden nodded.

Will started to get up, but hesitated. "At the same time, don't be fake. Faking St. Jimmy ruined Johnny as much as anything."

"So what do you want me to do?"

"Be the kid you are. If it means Nirvana, fine. If it means whatever's on the radio, that's fine too. Hell, go ahead and listen to Broadway."

Aiden smiled. "I don't think Broadway will be on a playlist anytime soon."

"I don't know. Before she got with me, it was certainly in your mother's bones."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah. Your mom's got pipes only the stage can handle."

"She hasn't sung in a long time."

"Ask her about it." Will got to the doorway. "You and your mom probably get along a lot better than you know."

"What makes you say that?"

Will laughed. "Well you and I got along better than expected, didn't we? This wasn't a disgusting ball of gag-worthy feelings, was it?"

"I guess it wasn't too bad."

"Yeah, yeah. Keep in touch, kid." Will closed the door, and started to leave.

There were Heather and Charlie on the couch.

No rest for the wicked.


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing. By the way, I understand that Will and Aiden wouldn't be fixed so soon. They aren't, really. They're just better.

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><p>"How'd it go?" Heather asked. She sat with Charlie, feet tucked under her body on the couch. Charlie had an arm around her, but was looking at the television set, trying to avoid looking at Will. Will remembered Heather's pregnancy, spending most of it on the couch that still sat in his apartment, hidden away in his bedroom. The last place Will wanted to be was too close to the married couple, so he sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. Heather caught his eye and smiled.<p>

"Pretty well, I think. There was a little bit of yelling-"

"We heard."

"-but I think that it was all for the best." Will finished his sentence, looking at Charlie. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't feel great about it, but he's an awful lot like I was at that age, and yelling was sort of required for me." Charlie and Will looked at each other uncomfortably, not sure of what to say. As it was with Heather and Will, the two would never quite have a perfectly normal conversation that didn't have hints of the underlying relationship.

"So what'd you end up telling him?" Heather tried breaking the tension. She mentally thanked God that she didn't have to put up with this sort of thing every day. Heather was straightforward most of the time, and would have ended up bringing up the unease, cracking the surface of Will and Charlie, the surface that said that they were comfortable with each other.

"I told him about the city."

Heather breathed out heavily and ran a hand through her hair. Both men almost smiled at the familiar habit. "Are you sure that was wise?"

"He wanted to know. And if he were to change, he'd have to know why he should. Johnny's the best example, but I couldn't just say that Brad turned him into that. I'm not going to lie to my son." Charlie shifted in his seat.

"Still, I don't think he should think that running away is an option."

"I sincerely doubt he thinks that."

"What makes you say that? You know just how easy it is to say you agree with someone."

"Well I explained that some things need to keep you from running away."

"Like what?"

"Heather." Will looked Heather in the eye. "What kept me from running away?" Heather stared at Will. She sighed, and looked at Charlie out of the corner of her eye. "That's the one thing that really hooked Aiden. He wanted to know your past."

"You told him about my wife's past, without her permission?" Charlie didn't sound mean, he just sounded surprised. He himself avoided that area most of the time, because it brought out an angsty and still undecided version of Heather. "That's gutsy, Will."

"He needed to know. And now he does, and I think that he really understands what he has that needs to keep him at home and doing well."

"Which is?" Will couldn't look Heather in the eye this time. He didn't want to look at Charlie either, so he found himself studying the coffee table.

"Love." he muttered. "And home is where the heart is, so he's gotta stay home."

Will didn't see it, but he heard Heather's smile. "Someone had to teach him. May as well be someone who knows it well."

Stupidly enough, Will felt himself blushing a little bit. He gave a half smile. "Well, I'd better be getting home. Papers to grade and all."

Heather got up to walk Will to the door. "Don't be a stranger," Charlie called. It was an empty sentiment, but it was better than ill will filled with spite.

"Thank you for coming." Heather tucked a hair behind her ear. The two stood in the doorway, and Heather leaned against the framework.

Will smiled. "Anytime." He turned to leave, but Heather stopped him by clearing her throat pointedly.

"I never thanked you."

A quizzical look shone through Will's face. "I'm pretty sure you just did. Three seconds ago."

"No, I mean I never thanked you for staying with me."

"Oh." Will coughed. "Well, what else would I have done? I mean.. you were my girl. It was Heather and Will, Will and Heather."

"More like Johnny, Tunny, Will, and Will's girl, but alright."

Will grinned and rolled his eyes. "Well, to me it was Heather and Will, Will and Heather."

"Yeah, yeah." Heather smiled softly. The same look came over her as when she'd opened the door to him hours earlier. Decision time. "Anyways. Thank you." Quicker than he wished, Heather stood on her toes and kissed him quickly in the doorway. She looked up at him with a bittersweet smile. She started turning, and he ended up outside the house while she stood inside.

He stepped down from the doorstep. "You're welcome." The door closed, and Will walked to his car. He sat there a moment, changing the radio station and watching the clouds roll in. He thought about what he'd said. To him it had been Heather and Will, Will and Heather.

"Past tense is a bitch," he said to himself. Then he went home.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing. On a side note, I'm not sure if this is the end chapter or not... you guys should tell me what you think. Thank you to those who have reviewed for letting me know what you're thinking! It's kind of a big deal.

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><p>Aiden stuffed his hands in his pockets and walked into the kitchen.<p>

Heather was there, mashing up some potatoes for dinner that night. It was about a week and a half after Will had come to visit, and despite their best efforts, neither of them had really talked about the event. They understood a lot more, however. When Aiden saw his mom flipping aimlessly through a Home and Gardens magazine, or trying to make a great meal, he didn't see it as sliding into suburbia anymore. He recognized her trying to build a home that he wouldn't want to run away from, a home that could raise him well. When she heard guitars wailing from behind his door, or saw a skull doodle on his palm, she didn't freak out immediately. It wasn't easy, but she focused on the unique individual that was being harvested. So, while the shaky areas remained untouched, the two had already grown closer.

"Hey, Mom." Aiden sat himself on the counter top.

Heather started cutting up carrots. "Hey, how was school today?"

"The usual."

"How's that Leah girl? Haven't heard about her in a while."

Aiden rolled his eyes. "You mean Leah from like, seventh grade?"

"The one you walked home yesterday? Busted." Heather grinned wickedly at her son's face. Aiden was rarely ruffled, but she caught the tinge of pink on his face. "Saw you two walking as I was getting back from the store. Way to not take the hand she left awkwardly dangling by her side."

"Mom!"

"Alright, alright. I'll lay off. I wouldn't think you to be shy about girls."

"Was Dad?"

"Oh, he was just like everyone else. Charlie introduced me to his friends, first of course, then-"

"No, I meant... I meant Will."

"Oh." Heather cleared her throat and smiled. "Will showed me off to everyone _ except_ his parents. Just about everyone knew me as 'Will's Girl' because he'd always say to the waiter or the cashier or anyone who'd listen this one line. 'I'll have one jaw-drop please, for my girl here,'" she laughed, imitating Will's deeper voice. Aiden smiled as she warmed up quicker than expected to talking about this man. "But his parents. He really didn't have much of a home life. They fought a lot, you know? We only really were with his parents a handful of times."

"Am I really a lot like Dad?"

Heather looked at Aiden and burst out laughing. "Sweetie, you're practically his carbon copy! Well, as far as I've seen you're everything good about him. You've got great character."

"What do you mean?"

Heather leaned on the counter with her son, watching the water simmer. "I mean you've got good roots. You know what my mom said about you when you were born?" Aiden shook his head. "She said that you were going to be very interesting to watch grow up."

"Why'd she say that?"

"Because. You are the product of two very different people, who together were a somewhat- force of nature, if you will. That's what she said, anyway. We both know Grandma can get a little crazy. And when your father comes up the craziness only skyrockets."

"Did Grandma like dad?"

"Oh, noo. Not at all. If I had a penny for every time she called him a scoundrel, among other things, I'd be able to hire someone to do my cooking and cleaning all these years later. Grandpa liked him though. He'd never admit it for fear of Ma's wrath, but you could tell. He would've liked you a lot too. Crap!" Heather started fiddling with the pot of carrots. "Go wash up, kiddo. Dad's coming home a bit late tonight; he said to start without him."

Aiden hopped off the counter and walked into the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, and wished he had something to compare to. _Does his nose have that little bump too? Is my hair really as dark as his?_ "Aiden! What, are you making the sink in there?"

"Coming, Mom!" He dried his hands and flicked the light off.

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><p>Later that night, Aiden still couldn't sleep. He started pacing around in his room, looking for something quiet to do. <em>Maybe I'll just get a drink and go to bed.<em> On the way out, he bumped into his mother.

"You haven't done this in a long time," she yawned.

"Done what?"

"I heard you up and about in your room for the past half hour, and I knew you'd be wanting something to drink. You've done that since you could toddle, ya know? So I figured that since I wasn't sleeping so great, I'd join you and fix you something. Come on." Aiden sat at the table, drumming his fingers. Heather bent into the fridge. "What do you want?"

"Milk sounds good." Aiden wondered at himself. Last week this would've been the last thing he'd be doing. Nearly fifteen, what near Jesus of Suburbia would think of this being a midnight adventure?

Heather set the glass down in front of him, and took the chair to his left. Aiden smiled.

"You made me chocolate milk."

"It's your favorite drink, according to your second grade 'All About Me' poster. I saw it the other day."

"Did Dad like it?"

Smiling behind her glass of milk, Heather nodded. "If he wasn't with the guys, it was his favorite drink."

"And if he was with the guys?"

"Budweiser. Why the sudden interest in your dad?"

"Just am." Heather smiled knowingly to herself.

"Was he there when I was born?"

"Mmhmm. All eight hours."

"I took that long?"

"With your big head? 'Course you did! You should ask him about the day you were born. I don't remember much of the during except for screaming."

"I will. Sometime." Aiden slurped up his milk and went back to bed.

Heather sat in her chair for almost another hour.

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><p>Please let me know whether to continue or leave it as is!<p> 


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